The Next Forty Days, Day Three–Every Day is Friday 

“TGIF,” I wrote in my journal this morning. Fridays have unfortunately become a day for many people when they can begin to let out the breath they’ve been holding all week. “If I can just make it to Friday, I’ll be alright.” I am in the Friday night exhale crowd, having crawled through many a difficult week of meetings, appointments, and events with lots of talking and planning and organizing and stuff amongst other people who are crawling through their difficult weeks, and the cycle continues. So this morning TGIF was the first thing I wrote in my journal, and then I thought, “It shouldn’t be this way. I would like to enjoy my work so much that I’ll look up and say, ‘Oh my goodness, it’s Friday already?'” What would it be like if every day was Friday?

Now, first I have to acknowledge that not everyone works a Monday through Friday, 8:00 to 5:00 job. There are plenty of people across the US who work in different industries–retail or hospitality or entertainment–who are definitely not on a five-day work week, standard 8:00 to 5:00. Or there are others who, for a variety of reasons, work more than one job and thus have no free weekends. The US is one of those places in the world who privilege the 8:00 to 5:00 set, creating the whole notion of the “weekend” as a time for leisure, to unplug and take a break. Businesses operate for the convenience of the 8 to 5ers–banks and many businesses adhere to this construct.

So many of us, probably millions of people in the US and around the globe, “live for the weekend.” We survive from Monday at 8:00 a.m. through Friday at 5:00 p.m. when we can escape and do what we “really” want to do after 40, 50, 60, 70 hours spent doing things we’d rather not, things that we tolerate at best and despise at worst. But what if every day were Friday? What would it be like to look forward to each new day with the same sense of excitement and anticipation with which many of us look forward to the weekend?

“I want to reach a point in my life,” I wrote in my journal this morning, “when I am so happy doing what I’m doing that I don’t notice that Friday got here so quickly. Over the span of my 32-year career I’ve spent way more time holding on until Friday came so I could go rest. This has been true for virtually my entire adult life. I doubt Oprah says ‘TGIF’ anymore.”

I wonder, in the midst of all the healing and miracle working and preaching, if Jesus ever thought, “TGIF. I can’t wait until the weekend when me and the boys can kick back and relax for a couple of days.”  He appeared to be so immersed in his father’s business (I mean God stuff) that I bet he barely noticed the passage of time at all, let alone what day of the week it was. He got criticized more than once by the religious establishment of his time for working on the Sabbath, the one day of the seven in which you were absolutely not to do any kind of work. But Jesus likely didn’t consider what he was doing “work,” not like herding sheep or doing carpentry work like his stepdad. No, healing and changing water into wine and all that stuff wasn’t work, it was simply what he did, what he was born to do.

And that’s it, isn’t it? It’s about knowing what you’re born to do and doing it. “To find what one is fitted to do and securing the opportunity to do it is the key to happiness,” the educator John Dewey wrote in the early 20th century. If we are fortunate enough to know what our purpose is, what we were born to do and secondly to find the pathway, the occupation, vocation, or job that allows us to do it, then we can find our way to living a life when every day is Friday. May it be so.

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